Monday, January 16, 2017


Lately, I am strong. It's nice.

A couple of years ago I discovered that physically I wasn't nearly as strong as I wanted to be (and emotionally? Forget about it. WIMP). I had lost about 100lbs and decided it was time. I was done screwing around. The rest was coming off, come Hell or high water (or both, I'm not picky). I decided to learn to run. Yes, I had to learn how. At the same time, I decided that I would do everything I could to avoid injury and I started taking Pilates classes.

I kind of wish I had videos of my first attempts at Pilates because I'm pretty sure they were hilarious. I tried though and I kept going and now? My core is pretty strong. I can shoot my legs straight out from a tabletop position (harder than it sounds, especially if you have a loose skin belly). I can bench press 200lbs on my legs which, according to an elderly gent at my gym, is pretty bad-ass.

I can do these things. I am strong.

I don't cringe every time my email buzzes now (although sometimes I say "GOOD GOD" if it's too many times in a row). If someone is repeating a story from a fake news site and I know it's absolutely not worth my time to try to correct them because they have their own version of truth, I just change the subject or move on to something else because I've decided, at forty-one years old, that trying to change people's minds is often not worth it. When I do speak up, I say what I mean and I mean what I say.

I'm strong.

I don't always act strong. Sometimes I cry my face off. Sometimes I'm so tired I literally can't even cry (this happened a few weeks wasn't pretty). Sometimes I still forgive things I shouldn't, sometimes I still blame myself for other people's shortcomings, and I am, continually, way too hard on myself. Every day.


I'm strong in body and I'm strong in spirit.

I would warn you not to mess with me, but you know what? It's okay if you do. I can take it.

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